Virtual Reality

Twin suns hung in the torn sky.

The two of them were still in the memory. However, this place was different. Yan Xiu took Yun Xiu to a high place and untied the immortal rope for Yun Xiu.

He seemed to have no energy to explain, nor to stand, so he sat casually on the edge of the cliff.

Yunxiu looked at her all the way, not knowing what to say. But Yanxiu advised her calmly:

"You're injured, sit down and rest. At least for now, let's not fight."

Yunxiu also sat down.

The first thing she asked was, "Did you really kill all of our fellow disciples...the disciples of Yaoxi Mountain?"

Yan Xiu's heart sank for a moment, his breathing almost stopping, and he answered with difficulty: "It's my fault."

Even though he was controlled by the remnant soul and couldn't turn back, bewitched and unable to be free, even though he couldn't understand his own actions now, everything was his fault. He couldn't defend himself, he couldn't excuse himself.

Yunxiu said nothing.

In his memory, Yan Xiu landed at the frontmost position in front of the formation and saw the thin figure nailed in front of the barrier at a glance.

The other person's clothes had long been soaked in blood and fire, turning dark red, and hung on her shoulders and back, which were covered with wounds so deep that the bones were visible.

The most fatal wound went through the waist and abdomen. Blood dripped down along the torn hem of the clothes and was instantly turned into a fine mist by the strong wind when it fell to the ground.

The Wuxin Sword in her hand was covered with spider-web-like cracks, and the hilt was deeply embedded in her bloody palm. Blood flowed along the sword's spine and formed a dark scab on the blade.

The barrier behind her flickered, like a heart on the verge of stopping. Yan Xiu could clearly sense the ancient god's violent power, encased within it, colliding with her every moment. Each collision made Yun Xiu's body tremble, as if her spine would break in the next second.

He heard his master's roar explode in the strong wind, carrying with it thunderous rage.

A humming sound of gathered spiritual energy came from the sect's formation behind him, and the voices of those who had called "Xiao You" and "Junior Sister" weighed heavily on Yunxiu's spine.

"Yan Xiu" clenched the Immortal Locking Chain in his sleeve - it was a magical device of confinement that he had specially found.

He finally made the first move. As his figure darted out of the formation, Yingtang's urgent "Brother!" rang in his ears, but he didn't stop.

The Immortal Locking Chain shot out like a spirit snake and wrapped around her shoulder blade precisely. The icy runes instantly tore through her broken protective aura and pierced through her flesh. "Yan Xiu" clearly felt the vibration coming from the chain, which was the resonance of the severe pain in her body.

"Come back with us."

His voice was harder than he had imagined, with an unquestionable determination.

The chains tightened suddenly, and the power of confinement surged along the chains, trying to seal the divine power surging in her body and pull her away from the barrier.

But the next second, Yunxiu suddenly coughed up a large mouthful of blood. The blood splashed on the Wuxin Sword and also on his drooping sleeves, with a scorching temperature.

Yan Xiu paused, but instead of retreating, she moved another half inch toward the barrier. She was using the tension of the chains to steady her nearly collapsing body.

With a loud rumble, a resounding explosion erupted. The Ancient God's divine power finally broke through a corner of the barrier, and black mist surged out, condensing into a huge, crimson vertical pupil. Its gaze, as cold as ice, first fell on Yunxiu, then swept across the sect's formation, a greedy glint in its eye.

Two suns hung in the torn sky, and the stench of blood and rain still drifted faintly into the nose through the barrier of memory.

The wind on the cliff was very light, causing the strands of hair at Yunxiu's temples to sway slightly. She tilted her head to look at Yan Xiu beside her. He rested one hand on the bluestone behind him, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the dry grass in the cracks of the stone. His eyes fell on the dark red figure in his memory, and his voice was calm, as if he was telling someone else's story:

"Actually, it's too late from here on."

"Yan Xiu" was still frozen in place. The moment the chain slipped from his palm, "Yun Xiu" had already turned around.

Yunxiu subconsciously clenched the corner of her clothes. She saw her lips move in her memory, and the blood foam from her throat stained the corner of her lips. Although she couldn't see the shape of her lips clearly, she inexplicably understood - she was saying "Don't come over here."

She tilted her head to look at Yan Xiu and said softly, "You...didn't understand at the time?"

Yan Xiu's fingertips paused, his Adam's apple moved, but he said nothing.

A hoarse roar suddenly exploded in front of the two of them: "Wu Xin - broken!"

With a "clang" sound, Yunxiu subconsciously raised his hand, as if he wanted to grab something, but his fingertips only touched empty space.

She watched the Wuxin Sword in her memory shatter in Yunxiu's palm, the glittering fragments swirling back towards her heart, the light splattering on Yanxiu's sleeves like a handful of broken ice. Yanxiu's voice rang in her ears, murmuring:

"The natal sword... shattering the sword means shattering the spirit vein. She never intended to live from the beginning."

In the picture, someone shouted "She is going to self-destruct", but no one could stop her.

Yunxiu lowered her eyes, looking at her palm—there was no wound there. She suddenly remembered the spiritual vein crack that Yan Xiu's fingertips had avoided when he was helping her to organize her divine power in the cave. It turned out that it had been broken once before, ten thousand years ago.

The glass heart of "Yunxiu" burst out with strong light, piercing into the core of the evil god, and dissipated bit by bit among billions of stardust.

The evil spirit disappeared, and all kinds of strange visions appeared like the Milky Way falling from the sky, turning into points of light and dispersing into the mortal world.

And those spots of light that scattered into the mortal world turned into a light black mist, covering the world.

"You also know a little about what happened later from Wu Yi."

The scene before him changed rapidly, gradually becoming the direction Yunxiu had seen before. Wu Yi sacrificed himself, absorbing all the divine power.

The pale blue light finally dissipated in the wind, and the last memory of the forbidden mountain behind was like a bubble that was blown away. Even the bloody smell that remained in the air was so faint that it could not be grasped.

Yunxiu suddenly came back to his senses, his fingertips still lingering the cold touch of the light chain in his memory, but what he saw before him was not the forbidden land with blood rain all over the sky, but the half-dead old sycamore tree outside the bamboo house.

The bark still bore the shallow marks she had made when she practiced swordplay, but after who knows how many years, fine moss had grown in the cracks. When the wind blew, the withered branches creaked, as if they were sighing.

She turned her head to look at Yan Xiu beside her. His ink-black tights were stained with dust from the mountain road, and there were pine needles hanging on the ends of his hair. But he just lowered his eyes, and his fingertips twisted unconsciously, as if he was brushing away some non-existent debris.

"I'm back."

Yan Xiu's voice was very soft, as light as cotton wool wrapped in the wind. He didn't look at Yun Xiu, but just walked towards the bamboo house.

The weeds in the yard were nearly knee-high. The saplings Yingtang had planted were still alive, though they were growing crooked, their trunks as thin as walking sticks, their leaves so sparse they couldn't even hold onto the morning dew.

Yunxiu followed behind him, his footsteps making a rustling sound on the weeds.

The sound was particularly clear in the deserted Yaoxi Mountain, so clear that it made her feel uneasy.

The mountains were so quiet that one could not hear the sound of pine trees, the rush of streams, or even the chirping of insects. There was only the sound of the wind blowing through the grass and trees, circling around the bamboo house.

Yan Xiu pushed open the door of the bamboo house.

The room was covered with dust. On the stone table was the rattan basket that she had not finished weaving. The rattan was so brittle that it broke at the touch. The banyan fruit next to it had long since shriveled and turned black, shrinking into a small ball.

He didn't bother to clean them up, but walked straight to the stove in the corner, squatted down, and took out a few pieces of half-burned charcoal from the stove. Then he turned around and went to the yard to pick up a bundle of dry firewood. I don't know when it was left, the firewood still had a faint scent of pine resin, but the edges were already white.

Yunxiu stood at the door, watching him skillfully light the fire and wash the pot. His movements were slow but steady, as if he had done it a thousand times.

She had a lot of questions stuck in her throat, and the images in her memory were still surging in her mind.

But looking at Yan Xiu's calm profile, she couldn't bring herself to say those words. She could only clutch the corner of her clothes and watch him add some water from the stream to the pot, and then pull out a cloth bag from the storage shelf. Inside was some rice that had long since dried and hardened, each grain tinged with yellow.

"Sit down first." Yan Xiu finally spoke, without even looking up, his fingers rubbing against the rust on the edge of the pot. "We'll have to wait a while for the water to boil."

Yunxiu still stood there, looking at him. Yan Xiu seemed to sigh, soaked a cloth with water, and wiped the stone bench again and again.

Yunxiu sat on the stone bench as instructed.

Her eyes swept across the room. The crooked talismans she had drawn back then were still stuck on the wall, but the color had long since faded to light gray. The silver bell hanging on the bedside had broken its cord, and the bell rolled to the ground, covered in a thick layer of dust, and could no longer ring.

She suddenly remembered that she used to love to jingle the silver bells, and Yan Xiu always said, "It's too noisy to practice swordplay," but he would still help her re-weave the broken hanging rope every time.

Her memory seemed to be slowly returning.

"How long has this been going on?" Yunxiu finally asked the first question, his voice a little hoarse.

Yan Xiu's hand paused as he was adding firewood, the firelight reflected in his eyes, flickering.

"I can't remember," he said. "Since the day you left, it's been about... a dozen years? Maybe even longer. There's no sun or moon in the mountains, so I can't remember the days anymore. When you... woke up, it was just an illusion I barely managed to hold on to. You asked me at the time if it had been an illusion from the moment you came down the mountain... but it wasn't. It was an illusion even in the mountains."

The two were silent for a long time.

"After the self-destruction..." Yunxiu's fingertips trembled, "Wu Yi..."

"He took back your soul and the soul of the Ancient God."

Yan Xiu's voice was very flat, and no emotion could be heard.

"Your divine power was entangled with the Ancient God's, and both of their souls were on the verge of dissipating into smoke. Even the Ancient God's remaining soul was nearly shattered. Wu Yi was already on the verge of dissipating, but he still used the last bit of his original immortal power to activate the white jade statue—the one you had been holding onto—and absorbed both the divine power and the remaining soul."

"The statue has been with me ever since."

Yan Xiu continued, the water in the pot began to steam, and he sprinkled a handful of dry rice into it.

"We lived in this illusion with the statue for years, and it took us years to piece together your fragmented soul. Master, Yu Wei, Ying Tang, and the others also came to help. The immortal power of all the immortals in Yaoxi Mountain was almost exhausted before we finally pulled you out of the statue and reshaped your body."

"What about the Old God? Why is he still inside me?"

Yan Xiu was silent for a moment, then stood up to wash some wild vegetables. The leaves were still stained with mud, and the edges were a little yellow. It was one of the few plants in this mountain that was still alive.

"We've tried." His voice lowered. "Your spirit and the Ancient God's spirit are too tightly entwined within the statue, like two vines growing together. I've used countless spells and even tried to cut them with Zhi Huan's divine power, but to no avail. As long as you're alive, as long as you exert even a tiny bit of divine power, his remnant spirit will stir within your divine essence, as if waking up."